


Cracks

by Palefire73



Series: Loki Origins [41]
Category: Frigga - Fandom, Loki - Fandom, Norse Gods - Fandom, Thor - Fandom, Tyr - Fandom, odin - Fandom
Genre: Family Relationships - Freeform, Gen, Sadness, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 22:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15895707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palefire73/pseuds/Palefire73
Summary: The subject of Loki's prowess - or lack of it considering his age - simply will not go away, no matter how much he would like it to. In the attempts to enforce will, to encourage and comfort, and to please, the Great Cycle becomes unbalanced.No matter what the House of Odin do to try to help the young Loki step along the path to becoming a formidable warrior Prince, it seems other forces will step in and have their say....





	Cracks

Six months had passed since the day Loki had suffered his teeth being knocked out in the swordsmanship assessment; his birthday had come and gone – minus the teeth of course – and the little boy was growing up fast. Yet Frigga could remember the conversation she’d had with Odin about the situation as clear as day… it had not gone well.

 

_~ “Odin, you know as well as I that there is a place for many skills in a realm as mighty as Asgard. We have warriors of great prowess who would lay their lives down for any of us, Tyr is certain to become a master swordsman, and Thor is showing promise in heavy weapons training, especially since he was infused with the power of the storm that night on the mountain… Loki’s talents clearly lie elsewhere…”_

_~ “My dear, sweet, beautiful… and incredibly patient Queen. Your love for the Jotúnn has developed to such an extent that you would defend his weakness rather than help me to overcome it? Yet, is this not an assumed weakness? How do we know that he will not develop into a fully-fledged Frost Giant and become capable of smashing us all to pieces should he so desire? Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I should relent and dismiss him from any training where he would become proficient in the use of a deadly weapon. What sort of a King fosters the talents of his own potential assassin?”_

Frigga had despaired at this disparaging attitude and had realised that she would not break down the decision Odin had made about insisting that Loki underwent training in some sort of weapon useful on the battlefield; there was no way she could think of to get the King to change his mind and so she had to make the painful decision to stand by him and present a united front to the young Prince when he was told what was going to be expected of him. It was only with great patience and her skill at persuasion that she had managed to eventually bring him round.

 

_~ “I do not want to train with the sword any longer! Every time I go to a lesson I am reminded of my lack of skill…”_

_~ “You will never gain skill if you do not attend, Loki and you know what your truancy led to last time. Please listen to me while I explain. Your father is quite determined that you carry on with learning how to use the sword and I have to say that I agree with him… in part. I believe you will need at least a passing skill in this weapon because of your status as a Prince of Asgard, yet I also believe it does not have to be your primary weapon.”_

_~ “I prefer the bow, Móðir… and the knife. They need a good eye and quick reflexes – like a cat!”_

_~ “Yes, Loki, like a cat. You can also use the bow in the saddle from afar and never have to get to the point where you are directly fighting, but you need to be able to. Look, Loki, I want to make an accord with you… I will continue to teach you the arts of the knife and take you to archery lessons, but on one condition. You go to your lessons with Johan and…”_

_~”But, Móðir…!”_

_~ “And, Loki, I will arrange for you to be tutored by the finest swordsman in the Nine in private lessons.”_

_~ “More lessons?”_

_~ “Yes, more lessons, but your learning will be of a higher quality in a more relaxed setting and we will be able to concentrate on your form rather than brute force…”_

Somehow, she had managed to convince Loki that more of the dreaded lessons would be of benefit to him and he had reluctantly held her hand as he was taken to be introduced to this supposedly amazing swordsman. The look of surprise on his little face when he had found out that it would be Johann who was tutoring him was quite amusing, but not nearly as much as his exclamation of “Oh, it is _you_!”. There had followed a weekly session where the Weaponsmaster had stripped down everything Loki _thought_ he knew about sword-fighting and had then started to build it back up again into what Loki _should_ have known about it. From what Johann could tell, Loki had watched a lot more of it than he had taken part in and was trying to re-enact what he had seen much larger and more skilled fighters do, but without any idea of the basic moves. The young Prince had not paid nearly enough attention in the group lessons because he thought he already knew a lot of what he was being taught, and it was this false impression that had led to him not picking up the necessary skills. Now that Johann had his undivided attention, however, the simple instructions were finally starting to sink in. The long-serving tutor started to build up a rapport with his Prince, quickly finding ways in which to encourage him to try just one more time when he felt he couldn’t. Slowly but surely, the patience and kindness Johann treated Loki with in these one-to-one lessons – things he often did not have luxury of in large classes – began to pay off and it showed in his regular lessons. Gradually, his appearance regained the healthy ruddy complexion and the sparkling blue eyes he had shared with Thor and Odin, and things seemed to be looking up again.

 

One evening as Odin and Frigga dined with their children, they were pleasantly surprised to find that they could not get a word in edgeways as the boys laughed and joked about the training they had taken part in that day. Loki, who was sporting a magnificent black eye and a graze on the tanned cheek below, was staring in admiration at his elder brother, Tyr, as he recounted Thor’s victory over one of the best pupils in his class. What had started out as a friendly sparring match had evolved into a more serious competition when the combatants had witnessed a few fellow pupils taking bets of sweet Asgardian Apricots on which boy they fancied to win. Thor had felt the thrill of the storm build within him and had been concerned that he might unleash a burst of wayward dangerous energy, so he had pulled back a little on his attacks. He had managed to sense how the electricity behaved within his nerves and muscles and had used his instincts to try to work with it rather than allow it free reign. The gash on his arm gave testament to his lack of concentration during the sword fight, but it also showed he had demonstrated a new-found measure in his actions. Rather than relying on the inexperienced and wild power he contained, he had held it back and had relied upon his training instead, managing to eventually tire out his opponent before tripping him up and pinning him to the ground with the tip of his own blunted sword. Tyr finished the tale off with a proud flourish and then Loki quickly joined in the recounting of the day with his own experience. He had been training with overripe fruits on tall poles with the rest of his class and had managed to split several of them wide open with his newly refined sword swing before one of them fell off, hitting him hard in the face and knocking him onto his behind. The lively chatter these tales created amongst them meant it was a lovely meal and possibly one of the best memories of the young family that any of them had.

 

Queen Frigga was generally known as a strong-willed yet fair Goddess, and she could not help but feel rather proud of her influence on Loki in the sensitive subject of learning how to fight like a future King. She believed that Odin’s heavy handedness in forcing him to attend lessons a few months ago had achieved nothing and had only highlighted her suspicions that he needed to be nurtured and to have reasons given for what he was being asked to do. Loki’s young mind was very astute and it was becoming apparent that he did not take well to being simply ordered around; wanting instead to be involved in why and what his duties as a young Royal were and she could only agree with him, no matter his age. It was a shame, then, that Odin – who was unaware of the extra lessons Loki was having – assumed this recent advancement was all down to Loki having been shown who ruled the roost and had even said as much to Frigga as he took the credit for this very much improved fighting Prince. In those same weeks, Loki grew from being reasonably quiet and studious six year-old into a more confident boy and became completely inseparable from his older brothers, who he idolised. It was wonderful to see how Loki was accepted more and more into the general camaraderie of the students who attended the weapons training and Frigga began to reduce some of the time she had been spending with him teaching him about the arts and nature. It was time, she felt, to make room for her little boy to start to grow into a man and as he spent more and more time with his brothers and friends, her hopes of ever again seeing a glimpse of his magic being used for simple amusement or to mend broken flowers began to fade away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Yet even the Gods are subject to the Great Cycle and Loki had a destiny to fulfil. The time he spent away from his mother’s teachings meant he deviated further and further from the Path he was meant to tread and the warning signs began to show themselves in the Well of Urd. The Norns watched as the waters flowing through Loki’s existence began to turn away from the stream they had always flowed along and began to see the consequences rippling out across the Nine. Of course, it could not be allowed and eventually the decision was made to intervene in order to prevent what could have amounted to a catastrophe on a universal scale. Having discussed the situation with her sister Verðandi, Skuld reached into the streams of destiny to gently place her fingers around the bright shimmering blue strand that was Loki and then began to ease it back to where it had been flowing throughout the millennia. It was a rapid return to the position he had been in prior to six months of gradual change and as she did it, there were many other destinies affected; some just a small fraction that was hardly noticeable and then others which experienced almost a paradigm shift. Whereas Fulla changed her mind and chose a fish dish for supper instead of chicken, something that would not really affect the course of history, Odin found that the young Prince’s stance whilst defending himself with a shield suddenly aggravated him so much that he called him out in front of all the other students and ridiculed him, leaving Loki’s face red with shame and his eyes set on Odin in hatred wondering what was wrong with his Father, who had been so proud of his recent performance. All of the fondness that had built up in the King of Asgard for the hostage Jotúnn withered as his shimmering golden stream through Yggdrasil was influenced by the Norns and set back upon the path he was predestined to follow.

 

This rather abrupt rectification of the course of Loki’s destiny by the Norn Skuld meant that a lot of the beneficial side-effects of Frigga’s solution to Loki’s problems in weapons training fell away quickly: the new-found confidence Loki had enjoyed began to dwindle and he grew quieter and more distant again, Odin’s patience with the boy became short in supply as it had been when he watched him train only six months ago and the new-found closeness between the two of them was set adrift, fading with every passing day and with neither of them knowing particularly why it was happening. Frigga was not nearly quite so puzzled by all of this, however; her gift of foresight had hinted that the improvement in their relationship would not last, but to her shame she had ignored it, hoping that she was wrong. So when Odin began to treat Loki with increased impatience and disdain again, her heart grew heavy and she could do nothing but step into the breach and bring Loki back to her bosom.

 

Unfortunately, Loki’s confusion over the development of Odin’s rather distant attitude, along with his natural ability to sense the feelings of others, meant that his young mind could not handle how it made him feel and he began to spend time doing activities that led to him being separate from others. Rather than joining in with multiplayer games and going off adventuring with his brothers and friends, as he had grown to enjoy during the first half of his year of being a seven year old, he began to play such games as the Midgardian Solitaire, or spend time with his pony, Tân Golau. Reluctance to attend sword lessons crept in again and he even pulled a face at Frigga when she offered to help him with his botany homework. Frigga despaired over this change for the worse in her son, and one day it became almost unbearable when he went missing.

 

“Even Heimdallr cannot see him!” Frigga was at the end of her wits and her voice betrayed her sadness at the situation that was unfolding. Fulla followed her Queen as she rushed down the corridor of the Palace, trying to keep up with the distraught woman who had taken it upon herself to join the search for Loki, who had gone missing about an hour before. He had been on the way from his drama group to an afternoon’s session in the training grounds with Johan, but he had never arrived.

“I am quite sure he will not have left the Palace, my Lady. Surely Heimdallr would be able to see him anywhere in the realm?” Fulla was quite out of breath now and was also growing worried about the young Prince. “Perhaps he has learned how to hide himself from the Guardian’s sight somehow?”

“He does not have the power to do that!” said Frigga testily. Fulla swallowed nervously, but pressed on with her reasoning.

“How do you know, my Lady?” she reached out and took hold of her Queen’s arm, “My Lady… _Frigga, stop!”_

 

The mother of the Odinson Princes came to an abrupt standstill and turned to her lady-in-waiting – her sister – and her beautiful features suddenly crumpled in sadness.

“Oh, Fulla! I am so worried!” she sobbed, “I need to find him. He is only seven and I have let him down. I knew I should have sewn that Altseende into his tunic, but no… I allowed him to put it in his little treasure box for safe-keeping. Such a powerful tool and I do not even use it! How could I be so _foolish?_ I have known for a long time that he would eventually gain in power…” Her words tailed off into incoherent mumbling as her tearful eyes wandered over the walls of the Palace corridor. Fulla broke into a trot again as Frigga suddenly set off at great pace and they searched all the places she knew Loki enjoyed visiting for the next hour or so, but Frigga’s distress grew as it started to go dark outside. Heimdallr still had not been able to locate the young Prince and she was considering despatching the Palace Guards to start to search the woods behind the Palace. It was while she was walking to the barracks that a guard approached her and saluted in the Asgardian fashion.

 

“My Lady, your son has been found and I have been sent to take you to him.”

 

Frigga’s heart leapt into her mouth as the news sank in and she reached out to grab the man’s arm, “Is he well?! Where is he? Does Odin know?”

 

Odin had not taken the Prince’s disappearance very seriously at first, instead treating the situation with indifference. However, he had also become concerned as the evening had drawn on and had taken it upon himself to search parts of the Palace that not many people had access to.

 

“Yes, he knows. It was he who bade me fetch you.”

“Then take me there quickly!”

“Yes my Lady. If you would accompany me.” The guard set off and Frigga followed him, wondering what state Loki would be in and how she was going to talk to him, “Prince Loki seems to be in perfect health and we did not want to disturb him unnecessarily, so the King alerted the Captain and I was sent to fetch you so you could decide what to do with him.”

“Very good my man. Lead on – where is he?”

 

But it was not long before Frigga realised where she was going. The guard led her away from the public areas of the Palace and back towards the stairs that led down to the private Royal dungeons. When there were no special prisoners to look after, these cells were usually unattended and the security barriers, which held an electrical charge similar to that of lightning, were left deactivated. The guard led Frigga to one of the cells that were specifically for Odin’s personally held captives and she paused in her stride, causing him to stop and turn to look at her questioningly.

 

“Is he in there?” She asked him quietly.

“Yes, my Lady, he is.” He nodded and held a hand out to indicate she should go in to see the Prince.

“Very clever,” she remarked with a wry smile on her face, “very clever indeed!”

 

Walking slowly and quietly, almost like a cat stalking its prey, she entered through the outer door, which opened sideways onto the inner corridor. Halfway along this corridor was the force field generator for the security barrier, which was switched off. When she got to the end, there was an identical door in the side wall which opened onto the cell itself. This dog-leg arrangement meant that no-one could see into the cell once the electrical barrier was working and the prisoner could not see the outside either. As she entered the white-walled cell, she noticed the lighting was dimmed and realised it was because Loki was asleep. It was possible to tune the level of lighting to the wakefulness of the prisoner, who would have no idea what the real time of day was due to the lack of windows to the outside world and it seemed this feature was still active. She peered over at the small bed and could make out a little shape lying down on it, clearly someone who was fast asleep from the sound of the gentle snores coming from that direction.

 

Yes, Loki had been quite clever in choosing this cell as a hiding place. Sitting down in a red leather armchair next to the bed, Frigga smiled ironically. The All Father’s private dungeon was one of the few places in the Asgardian Palace that was shielded from magical prying. No-one could divine who or what was within these white walls, not even Heimdallr. She looked over at the sleeping boy and decided not to disturb him, instead conjuring a footstool and a large comfortable cushion and settling down to nap lightly until her son woke up.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Móðir?” The sound of a young voice and the sensation of a small hand resting lightly on her arm brought Frigga out of her sleep and she smiled fondly at the young boy who stood before her with a questioning look on his face. A face that was paler than usual.

“Oh, Loki, darling. You are awake! Come here.” Frigga sat up and held out her arms for Loki to come to sit in her lap for a cuddle, but he ignored the gesture.

“Why are you here, Móðir?” He asked, his pale eyes glancing at her before lowering to the floor. Frigga frowned in puzzlement. _Why was he being so odd? And what had happened to his eyes?_ Once again, they had lost some of the vibrancy of the blue colour he shared with Thor.

“I came to find you, Loki! … We have been looking everywhere for you… I have been so worried…”

“Have you? I thought you were busy tending your garden or something. Perhaps watching Tyr and his friends winning yet more medals!” Loki’s voice was very bitter for a boy of his young age and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Loki, come to me. Please?” Frigga rose from her chair and held her arms out to him again and he quickly closed the gap, throwing himself at her as young children do, and wrapping his small arms tightly around her.

“I want to be able to fight, too! Why is _Faðir_ so nice to Tyr and Thor and not to me? Why has he changed so much? I did my best for him!” Frigga pulled him close and stroked his brown hair, which contained warrior braids just as all Royal Princes wore. “I want to be a man just like them!” His narrow shoulders shook as he began to cry, “I want to be a Great King, just like Faðir!” His sense of injustice came through in his voice and Frigga sighed unhappily for him. This was another of those hard lessons in growing up and Odin would probably wonder what all the fuss was about, leaving Frigga to deal with the aftermath once again.

“Loki, you will make a fine King one day. You will be known throughout the Nine and you will be able to protect your people just as well as any other. They will love you and will feel safe knowing that you have their best interests at heart.” She gently steered the young Prince out of the cell, “Come, my son, let us find some supper and then turn in. We can spend all day tomorrow together and I will teach you a new move in close combat defence. How about that?”

“Will it make me a better King?” The hope in Loki’s question was almost heart-breaking, but it gave Frigga confidence that he was coming round from his unhappiness and she squeezed his small hand reassuringly.

“Loki, it will make you the greatest of them all.”

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry it's been a while. It seems real life has got a lot in store for me lately! 
> 
> Thanks for checking in  
> Palefire73  
> x


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